


Switches

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3762253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock keeps his captain interested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switches

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for tomorrowsdate’s “Spock likes cross dressing for Jim” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It takes a certain level of confidence, he’s told, to switch uniforms on a whim. As a Vulcan, he’d like to claim that such things don’t affect him, but it would be insincere to deny a certain level of... discomfort... at the eyes that follow him where ever he goes.

He isn’t on duty right now. The journey is only from his own quarters to the captain’s, but the route takes him past enough familiar faces to draw stares. Unfortunately, there’s no other way to manifest his plan, short of changing directly in the midst of Jim’s chambers, which would, in all likelihood, be far more difficult. 

At least this way, when the doors swish open around him, he has the element of surprise. Jim’s already in his seat in the waiting room, his three-dimensional chessboard already on the table. These arrangements have become commonplace, and so Spock has taken extra precautions to assure that his human counterpart doesn’t become bored.

And, perhaps, he has his own interest in it. The enjoyment isn’t so much in the act itself as knowing Jim’s reaction, which is just as he expects. Jim glances casually at Spock, then does an immediate double-take, eyes gluing to Spock’s lithe figure and growing very wide. 

Spock’s worn the incredibly short, bright blue science uniform typically donned by Starfleet women. He hasn’t worn his usual standard-issue black pants underneath, and instead his black boots rise almost up to his knee, the leathery material sucked tight against his skin. All of the uniform is tight, Synthesized to his exact specifications, though the upper chest area was never designed for such broad shoulders and tugs a little across his breast. The uniform tries to cinch in a waistline he doesn’t have, and it makes the hem ride a little too high up his thighs, showing off more skin than would be appropriate on Vulcan, but it still keeps him just in check by human standards. He even went so far as to shave his legs, if only to make the change that much more extreme. It pays off in the way Jim looks at him: shocked and considerably _ravenous_.

When Jim’s ice blue eyes finally make it up to Spock’s face, he asks dully, “Why are you wearing a dress?”

Lifting one perfectly-arched eyebrow, Spock casually replies, “Despite general convention, our uniforms are not gender-specific, Captain. I am free to wear either one.” He predicted such a question and prepared such an answer. Yet he’s almost proud of himself for being able to deliver it so tonelessly, when Jim’s gaze is making him feel distinctly hot. Jim does a quick sweep of him again, lingering around his bare arms, the small of his waist, and the peek of smooth, green-tinged skin between dress and boots. 

Jim swallows and mumbles, “You’ve never worn the dress before.” 

Once, reading human emotion was difficult to Spock. Now, if there’s one person in this universe he can read, it’s James T. Kirk. He can see the appreciation, the pleasure, the _want_. His experiment a success, Spock smoothly suggests, “If my dress is distracting you, Jim, I can always take it off.” He makes it sound as though it’s only logical.

Jim visibly shivers. His pink tongue pokes out between his lips, slowly swiping across to wet them. Spock has to force himself to look away to keep more control than his captain; Jim can be incredibly alluring without any effort at all. And today is supposed to be _Spock’s_ turn to elicit a reaction. Jim seems to toy with the idea, but finally he leans back in his chair and says, “Let’s save that for the end of the match.” A faint smirk comes over his lips, as though their game will _earn_ him his prize, instead of the free offer Spock’s given him. 

But Spock is Jim’s second through and through, so he takes a seat in the chair across from Jim. He keeps his legs together, aware that if he doesn’t, Jim will get an early view. Then, thinking of the officers Spock serves with who wear this uniform regularly, he crosses one leg over the other. It makes the dress ride up his lap, but Jim doesn’t look at all like he minds. 

Spock picks up the first piece, nudging it forward one square, and then he returns, “Your move.”


End file.
